Time to Go

Everything dies,

Even you. 

But he knew 

he only had to touch

one, anyone, to send it 

away. To make it

die.

It's what he did

as though it couldn't

be helped.

It was written

in his DNA.

Twisted lines of 

data, always

twisting more, the more

he cared.

The world burns,  

Hate. Anger.

Grief.

His own light

is growing dim.

He longs for

release but

too stubborn to

recognize when

it's time to say goodbye.

So it twists 

and in its twisting

wishes for a 

better place

to be.

Meanwhile

There is sleep.

~ September 17, 2020